


Marionatelli

by knowmeknot



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Amputation, Bondage, Broken Bones, Conditioning, Contest Entry, Dark fic, Emotional Manipulation, Gags, Gore, M/M, Non-con Soul Manipulation, Sensory Deprivation, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Yandere Papyrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowmeknot/pseuds/knowmeknot
Summary: Who knew something as simple as breaking a leg would spiral into something like this. Sans definitely didn't.An alternative sequel to Regretti and deviation from Caveatelli. Please heed the warnings!





	Marionatelli

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Regretti](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581030) by [skeletonfricker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonfricker/pseuds/skeletonfricker). 



> This is a sequel of [Regretti](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5581030) and deviation from [Caveatelli](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6828547/chapters/15586645). I would also like to give credit to [Ganz aka NSFW Sinning Sans](https://nsfwsinningsans.tumblr.com/post/162407995540/w-look-at-this-cutey-im-going-to-make-the) for their [ fanart that inspired this horrible concoction. ](https://nsfwsinningsans.tumblr.com/post/163382394970/ganzooky-since-my-tablet-screen-broke-im-going)
> 
> Also, this is my submission for the Undertail Fanfic Contest under the “Gore” category. I thought I’d try my hand in writing something I’ve never done before (New Experience for me). And once again, please heed the warnings!

Sans ran as fast as his short legs could carry him across the dangerous bridge and field of Snowpoffs. He had given tickets for Papyrus to see Mettaton’s live show in Hotland, and used the time to escape from the house. He wasn’t trying to run away from Papyrus, he told himself; he simply needed some time alone after what Papyrus had done. And maybe some advice from the lady behind the door.

Perhaps Papyrus had finally gotten fed up with his lazy, messy behavior and always staying out at Grillby’s. Sans shuddered involuntarily as he thought back to the cold, threatening words the other had uttered. 

Papyrus would never hurt him… would he?

He chuckled humorlessly. Hadn’t Papyrus done just that by knocking him out, tying him to a chair and force feeding him his spaghetti?

So deep was Sans in his thoughts that he missed the lone spike peeking out from the snow-covered earth. Papyrus had recalibrated the puzzles earlier today so Sans had no reason to assume that one of them would be misaligned.

_Crack!_

Lancing agony shot from his left tibia up his entire body, causing him to crash headfirst into the snow. The fall caused the sharp point to jut into the bone, sending more waves of pain. Sans cursed as he tried to get up, only to crash back onto the ground. Twisting his torso back, he saw a large, noticeable fracture running lengthwise along his tibia. 

Ignoring the stabbing daggers, Sans grasped at his magic to take a shortcut when—

“SANS?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!” Papyrus’s boisterous yet worried voice called out.

Sans froze as he saw his brother rushing towards him. Papyrus’s previous warning rang out within his skull, and Sans scrambled to get away. A sharp gasp flew out of his mouth as the spike dug further into the bone. Crimson stained the white snow under his broken leg.

“BE CAREFUL, BROTHER! YOU WILL WORSEN THE INJURY!”

Papyrus was on him in less than a second, crouching down to pick him up. Sans squirmed in his grasp.

No! Papyrus was going to… going to...

A warm sensation suddenly filled him. The ache lessened slightly, and being wrapped in Papyrus’s familiar arms had him relaxing almost involuntarily. 

“DO NOT WORRY, SANS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU. I’LL MAKE SURE YOU LEG IS FIXED PROPERLY! NOTHING WILL HURT YOU WHILE I’M AROUND!”

Papyrus stood up and began his trek back to their house, holding Sans flush against his chest. The warm thrum of Papyrus’s magic calmed Sans down enough for him to rest his head against his brother’s battle body. The wound stung like an irritated itch.

Maybe he had been wrong about Papyrus after all. Of course his brother would never hurt him.

When the two got back to the house, Papyrus laid Sans down on the couch with some blankets and disappeared into the kitchen. Without his brother’s warmth, the harsh pain came back twice as intense. Sans squeezed his eye sockets shut and took deep, shuddering breaths, suppressing the groan threatening to escape his mouth. He never had much tolerance for pain. Not long after, Papyrus stepped back out into the living room with a bowl of soup in his hand. 

“DRINK THIS, SANS, IT’LL HELP THE PAIN!”

Sans grabbed the bowl without hesitation and downed the steaming liquid in several gulps. The effects were immediate. The burn eased away; in fact, he felt _numb_. Papyrus beamed, a look of absolute adoration. Sans shivered at the expression.

His brother’s face blurred, and even after blinking his sockets several times, it worsened. The bowl slipped out of his hands as he fell unconscious. 

Sans blinked awake without any sensation in his limbs, staring at the familiar ceiling tiles of the kitchen. It was difficult to move; no, he found himself unable to move at all. 

He was paralyzed. How… why?

“SANS? YOU’RE FINALLY AWAKE!” 

Sans’s eye lights snapped to his left. Papyrus towered over his prone body lying on their dining table.

Then he saw it, the knife with a foot-long serrated blade that Papyrus held in his right hand. The sharp edges gleamed in the light, and panic flooded into Sans.

“pa-papyrus, wh-what’s goin’ on?” His voice cracked.

“AS I TOLD YOU EARLIER, BROTHER, I WILL SEE THAT YOUR LEG IS FIXED!” 

Papyrus took two paces closer and brought the edge of the sharp blade to the middle of his left femur. Sans struggled to move, but it was to no avail. 

“paps, y-you can’t. th-there’s gotta be another w-way.”

His brother smiled wider. 

“NOT TO WORRY, SANS, UNDYNE SAID THE BEST WAY TO TREAT THIS KIND OF INJURY IS TO REMOVE IT COMPLETELY, SO IT DOESN’T WORSEN! WITH A PINCH OF THE PARALYSIS POTION I BOUGHT FROM MUFFET, YOU WON’T FEEL A THING!”

Papyrus pressed the knife into the white osseous matter. Despite not feeling even a pinch, a terrified whine flew out of Sans’s mouth. Flakes of dust fell onto the table. This only seemed to encourage Papyrus further, as he forced the blade cleanly through the bone, separating Sans’s lower left leg from the rest of his body. Dust and red marrow bled onto the table.

“papyrus!” Sans screamed, his pupils shrinking into pinpricks of light. 

Though he felt nothing except a slight pang, a chill settled deep within him. A horrifying spark of interest and desire flashed across Papyrus’s expression. Sans wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Mulling over the horrifying action just done to him, Sans barely noticed as the taller skeleton wrapped his left stump with bandages. Once it was done, Papyrus tied it into a neat bow.

“THERE, BROTHER! THIS PESKY FRACTURE —” Papyrus held up Sans’s detached lower leg, which was bleeding profusely onto the floor, and indicated at the split in the tibia, “IS NO MORE!”

“b-but i… i can’t walk like this... bro.” Sans added that last part in hopes that Papyrus would somehow reattach his limb.

“AND THAT’S HOW I, YOUR COOL BROTHER, WILL HELP YOU! IF YOU EVER NEED TO GET ANYWHERE, YOU ONLY HAVE TO **TELL. ME. WHERE. WON’T YOU, SANS?”**

Sans could do nothing but nod pitifully upon hearing the thinly veiled threat in Papyrus’s dark tone. He gave no protest when Papyrus scooped Sans into his arms and carried Sans upstairs to his room, holding his gaze on the detached leg. 

What more could he do?

Hours went by, and when the numbness from the drug finally faded, Sans was nearly crippled with agony, writhing and whimpering into his stained mattress. As if hearing his distress, Papyrus slammed open the door to his room within a matter of seconds, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming oatmeal. Sans scrambled backwards against the wall as best as he could.

Did Papyrus drug the food again?

But once the looming skeleton laid a gloved hand on Sans’s left shoulder, he stilled.

“HAS THE PAIN COME BACK?” His brother asked, wearing a concerned frown. “IF YOU BEHAVE AND LET ME FEED THIS TO YOU, I WILL MAKE IT GO AWAY!”

Papyrus scooped a spoonful of the flaky, wet oatmeal and held it to Sans’s clenched teeth. It looked entirely too unappetizing, reminding Sans vaguely of his own dust probably still spread over the kitchen table. Nausea rose within him. 

“i can feed myself,” he rasped.

There was a slight twitch of Papyrus’s right eye socket, and he pushed the spoon against his teeth with enough force for it to hurt.

“LET ME FEED YOU! OR ELSE!”

Sans obeyed, opening his mouth. It tasted like soggy, burnt cardboard. Sans nearly gagged but resisted the urge knowing that it would upset his brother. Spoonful by spoonful, as Papyrus fed him the tasteless concoction, the pain began to fade. Once the whole bowl was empty, Sans was floating on clouds, and relaxed against Papyrus.

“ISN’T THAT ALL BETTER?” 

Sans gave a weak nod. 

“SEE, YOU JUST HAVE TO LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU!” A bone chilling grin split across Papyrus’s skull. “AFTER ALL, BROTHER, I ONLY WANT THE BEST FOR YOU!”

Too tired to argue, Sans groggily answered, “ok.”

Sure enough, Papyrus kept his words (of course he would; Sans shouldn’t have assumed otherwise) and helped Sans everywhere. Papyrus had requested some time off to take care of him after his “injury and procedure.” His brother always held him closely in his lanky arms whenever he took Sans to places — up the stairs to Sans’s room, which was now spotless, into the kitchen for lunch and dinner, and to the living room to watch TV. 

But never once did Papyrus take him outside the house, even at his request, stating matter-of-factly, “IT’S MUCH TOO DANGEROUS FOR A 1 HP MONSTER LIKE YOU, SANS! THINK OF WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU IF I HADN’T BEEN THERE TO HELP WHEN YOU BROKE YOUR LEG!”

Sans couldn’t find the energy to fight the matter, despite the constant nagging in the back of his mind that _this was wrong_. 

“AND IF YOU KEEP ASKING, BROTHER, I’LL HAVE TO TAKE DRASTIC MEASURES! YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO UPSET ME AND BE PUNISHED FOR IT NOW, WOULD YOU?”

“heh heh nope,” Sans replied, feeling an oppressive amount of negative energy exuding from his sibling. “guess i could use the time to, uh, catch some Zs.” 

And Sans never asked again.

Until a week later, he finally found an opportunity to take a breather; Papyrus had an impromptu meeting with Undyne, giving Sans the chance to leave the house for a bit. Maybe stop by Grillby’s since eating dinosaur oatmeal and spaghetti for the past week didn’t offer much variety in taste. He hadn’t had ketchup in forever! 

The only issue was how he would get there with only one functional leg. No doubt the patrons of the bar would ask how Sans had lost nearly his whole left leg. And there was no way he could tell them that his brother had done it. 

What would happen to Papyrus if word got out?

Although Papyrus’s recent actions had been largely unsettling, Sans couldn’t let his brother get arrested. Besides, who would even believe him?

Sans decided to use his shadeless desk lamp as a makeshift peg leg and wore a pair of old sweatpants to hide it. Thank the stars he still had his magic, so he took a shortcut to Grillby’s and stumbled inside. Dead silence engulfed the bar, and every monster turned their attention to him.

“uh, ‘sup guys? been busy healin’ from an injury.” Sans kept his tone casual. 

After a few seconds, all the regulars greeted him as if he hadn’t been absent for the past week. Sans made his way to the bar, nearly tripping twice. Bursts of white-hot pain exploded from his injury every time he jerked it too quickly. By the time he finally slumped onto the counter, sweat trickled down the sides of his skull. 

“heya, grillbz. one order of burg, please.”

The bartender’s flames flickered brightly, as if asking him if anything was wrong. As if he were concerned. Sans gave a dismissive wave, and Grillby prepared the food. He salivated at the sight of the burger when Grillby brought it to him.

He took one bite out of it and hummed contently, the greasy, tomato-filled taste lifting his spirits. He noticed Grillby hovering nearby, embers crackling.

“... Is everything… truly alright with you… Sans?”

For a brief moment, Sans considered spilling everything. 

But no, he couldn’t do that to Pap. 

“still the same old bonehead, heh.” 

Grillby looked unconvinced but didn’t press further. All of a sudden, the door to the bar slammed open. Papyrus stood in the threshold. He had his usual polite smile. 

“SANS! I’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU AND HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK!”

Papyrus stomped over and stood behind him. Sans could sense the suppressed anger in Papyrus’s magic crashing into him in giant waves, and flinched. He became limp as Papyrus lifted him out of his seat like a sack of potatoes.

“COME, BROTHER, WE HAVE MUCH WORK TO GET DONE!”

He was in huge trouble now. How could he get away? Teleporting wouldn’t help with Papyrus holding him; it would simply bring him along. If only he could think of a way for the other to drop him.

Once they walked outside back into the brisk air, Sans summoned a tiny bone to appear in the snow just as Papyrus’s boot stepped forward, tripping him. His brother dropped him, who took the opportunity to shortcut in front of a large, wooden door. Sans peered around him and limped his way to the Ruin’s entrance, ignoring the bursts of needles lancing from his missing limb. When he reached the door, he leaned heavily against it, panting deeply.

What was he to do now? There was no doubt in his mind that Papyrus was pissed. What had happened to cause him to be like this? 

He heard soft rattling as Papyrus’s fascinated stare at his useless stump of a left leg flashed within his mind. 

Ah, they were coming from him. 

Sans found his breathing becoming more ragged. Maybe passing off some knock knock jokes would calm his stuttering soul.

“knock knock.”

No response.

Again, “knock knock.”

After minutes of silence, Sans decided to throw in the towel and head back — no, he couldn’t go back; Papyrus would be there! 

The rattling noise increased.

“Who’s there?” a deep, feminine voice said from the other side of the wooden barrier.

“ca-canoe.”

A soft giggle came.

“Canoe who?”

“canoe open the door?” _I need to get away from my brother,_ he wanted to add.

The mysterious lady didn’t respond for a period, and Sans felt his soul drop to his nonexistent stomach.

“heh heh, twas just kiddin.”

“I must say, that wasn’t one of your best ones.”

“well what can i say, they can’t all be winners.” 

Sans heard a sudden snap of a twig and spun around, eye lights dancing around in his large sockets frantically. When nothing came, he turned back to face the door. 

“That’s true.” There was a pause. “Is everything going alright with you, my friend?”

“... my brother’s been acting strange lately, and ‘m wondering if i’d done something wrong. i mean, it’s always been just me and my bro. i was probably a terrible role model and my bro…”

Is that why Papyrus was like this? Should he have been less overprotective of Papyrus when they were younger? He shouldn’t have shielded Papyrus so much and allowed him to make more friends besides Undyne. 

The lady’s sharp tone cut through Sans’s distressing thoughts like a knife through butter. “You’re too hard on yourself. You should talk it out with your brother. Based on what you’ve told me about him, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“y-yeah. thanks, lady.”

“I’m glad to have helped. Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll always lend an ear.”

A knot formed in Sans’s throat, and he felt tears prickling the corners of his eye sockets at her kind words. 

But then it came at him — the furious, crackling of a magical signature so familiar to him. Before Sans had the chance to turn around, it hit him like a force of a thousand stampeding gyftrots, and everything went black. 

When Sans came to, he felt a deep heaviness within him, as if his own magic was trapped inside his physical body. He groaned, but found something jammed across his mouth.

It was a long rubber gag and was fitted in a way that kept his jaws slightly parted, causing it to ache. Any attempts at removing it was in vain, as he found himself utterly immobile; this time it wasn’t due to paralysis. 

Thick rope bound his wrists and forearm to the arms of a chair, and forced his lower spine against the back support. Even his right ankle was pinned against the front leg of the chair. A thin, metal collar wound around his neck.

Sans squirmed, but the tight bonds didn’t even allow him to move an inch. He shut his eyes and tried to grasp at his magic. It spluttered into nothing. His soul pounded frantically within his ribcage. 

How was it that his magic didn’t work?

Papyrus strolled in front of him, and Sans’s suppressed magic froze as he caught sight of the knife, now appearing more like an actual saw, that Papyrus had used last time. Papyrus’s sockets narrowed and his free hand was propped against his hip in displeasure. 

“SANS! YOU’VE MADE MY VERY UPSET DISAPPEARING ON ME LIKE THAT! AND THEN I FIND YOU CONVERSING WITH TWO OTHER MONSTERS INSTEAD OF ME?! YOU WILL BE PUNISHED UNTIL YOU LEARN TO NEVER RUN AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!” 

Sans gave a muffled protest, shaking his head. A dangerous spark of dark orange magic materialized in both of Papyrus’s sockets, and the tall skeleton raised the serrated blade to rest at the middle of Sans’s right femur. The most frightening aspect of this whole nightmare was the wide grin adorning his brother’s features. 

Sans’s struggles grew frantic, though it did nothing to stop Papyrus from pressing the sharp edge into the bone. Last time there had been no pain, so when the knife finally breached the surface and sliced into the center, Sans _screamed_. Or as much as he could with the gag.

Thick globs of marrow and liquid magic dribbled out from the wound and spilled onto the chair. Dust fell alongside it. Papyrus gave a forceful shove, and the blade cleaved through his femur.

“nnngh!” Tears beaded the corners of Sans’s eye sockets. _i’ll be good. s-stop! please stop!_ Sans tried to say, but only a series of “mmmph” came out.

Papyrus ignored his pitiful cries and let the limb fall onto the ground with a resounding, _clack!_ Marrow and magic poured from his amputated leg, leaving a red and blue puddle on the floor.

“WE’RE NOT DONE YET, BROTHER! I NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU PROPERLY LEARN YOUR LESSON.”

Then to Sans’s immense horror, the other raised the crimson-tinged blade to rest against the middle of his left humerus. Papyrus didn’t even give Sans time to brace himself before he was hit with such mind-numbing agony that dark spots lined his vision. He bit down at the gag, but it did nothing to ease the pain.

Papyrus sawed through his upper arm like how a lumberjack chops down a tree. Specks of dust, marrow and liquid magic splattered onto both of their skulls, the stark contrast of the red, blue and white making his brother appear utterly unhinged. 

Another forceful shove and strangled sob later, Sans’s left forearm separated from the rest of him. With how much dust and magic he’d lost, Sans wondered how he was still alive. 

Why was he not dead yet? Even checking himself was too much for his pain-addled mind. 

By the time the knife turned to his remaining limb, Sans had already given up fighting. He just wanted the haze of constant torture to end. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he’d fallen silent save for the occasional muted whimpers. 

If only he hadn’t tried to leave Papyrus. If only he’d stayed with him, then maybe it wouldn’t have ended up like this. 

This was just another one of his fuck ups.

Once his last arm was detached, Sans tittered into unconsciousness. Papyrus, with suddenly a surprising amount of tenderness, wrapped the weeping stumps in bandages and, just like with his left leg a week ago, tied them off with a tiny bow. Papyrus then untied him, the gag and his - now useless - amputated arms from the chair to let them fall onto the ground. The collar remained. 

“THERE, BROTHER!” Papyrus exclaimed taking a few steps back to survey his handiwork, seemingly ignoring the large puddle of blue and crimson liquid, littered with gray clumps of dust, spreading across the tiled floor. He beamed, “NOW YOU’LL ALWAYS NEED ME TO CARE FOR YOU!” 

Papyrus pressed Sans close to his ribs, Sans’s injuries throbbing violently from the strain. Sans could take it no longer and welcomed the darkness. 

 

In the following days, if Papyrus wasn’t with him, then he was locked up in his own bedroom. With the majority of his legs and arms gone and his magic dampening collar, Sans had absolutely no way of getting anywhere on his own without his brother. 

Was this how he would spend the rest of his life?

Nobody came to ask for him. Papyrus had told Undyne and everyone in Snowdin that he had fallen ill and cannot leave the house. He was a prisoner of his own home.

Papyrus also hadn’t bothered to give him anything to ease away the relentless, stabbing agony that afflicted him constantly. In fact, whenever he ignored Papyrus for too long, refused to eat, or slept too much — he tried to spend as much time napping as possible, despite constantly plagued by nightmares — Papyrus would purposely jerk one of his stumps or wrap the bandages on extra tight. 

Then one day, Sans woke up lying prone on what seemed to be his sibling’s bed with his vision obscured. The gag had been forced back into his mouth. Footsteps approached him; no doubt his brother’s. Sans trembled in anticipation, loud rattles filling the room. He flinched when a bony finger rested gently on his sternum, which he’d just realized was bare. 

“SANS, I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR HOW I’VE TREATED YOU.” Regret lined heavily in Papyrus’s voice. “I HAVE FINALLY FIGURED OUT, AFTER SOME EXTENSIVE RESEARCH FROM A PET TRAINING MANUAL, THAT THERE NEEDS TO BE A BALANCE OF PUNISHMENT AND REWARD. YOU HAVE BEEN BEHAVING SO WELL LATELY, BROTHER, THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL SHOWER YOU WITH MY APPRECIATION!”

Sans gave a strangled cry as he felt Papyrus’s magic taking ahold of his entire being, and forcefully drawing out his soul. And then warmth and relief shrouded him into a blissful haze. Nimble phalanges danced across the surface of his soul. Sans sighed. 

It had been so long since he had experienced any form of pleasure that he found himself latching onto the feeling like a leech hungry for blood, and the lack of his usual senses made it even more pronounced. Though this didn’t stop the soft warning in the back of his mind telling him that this was **wrong** , that Papyrus **shouldn’t be touching his soul like this.**

Sans shook his head furiously in an attempt to get Papyrus to stop. The other responded with a rough tug at his remaining femurs.

“I LOVE YOU, SANS! FOREVER AND ALWAYS!”

And then it hit him: Papyrus’s love for him. It was ugly, filled with obsession, twisted devotion and possession. But to Sans, the sensation of comfort overrode the warning in his head. The more of Papyrus’s corrupted infatuation that he poured into the soul, the more Sans began to believe, and a realization dawned on him. 

There was no ill-intent behind what his brother had done. If Papyrus actually meant to hurt him, his HP would’ve dropped to 0 from the moment the knife had touched the bone. 

Papyrus loved him. 

Shouldn’t he return his love?

A muffled moan escaped between the gag as Papyrus continued to massage Sans’s soul with utmost care. The initial horror at the taller sibling’s actions faded away into pleasure. With the miniscule amount of magic not suppressed by the collar, a glistening mound manifested in his pelvic inlet from the increasing pressure coiling within him. Sans flushed with embarrassment, wishing to sink into the mattress.

“WHAT IS THIS?” The innocent curiosity had Sans reeling.

“mmmph!” _No! Stop!_

This was another one of Sans’s fuck ups. Not explaining to the younger skeleton that their magic could manifest these parts with enough soul stimulation and arousal. It was only fair that Papyrus found out about it in the worst way possible.

Sans heard a wet squelching sound and whimpered at the intrusion in his conjured hole. Papyrus’s movements were initially slow and hesitant before increasing in pace and ferocity. The ministrations with his soul also resumed. Sans keened, arching his spine. Saliva ran down the corners of his mouth, made worse by the gag. 

Then, after a particularly hard squeeze of his core, Sans came with a stifled scream. The blindfold slipped off his skull, and light flooded his vision. Blue soul fluid and his magical release dripped down Papyrus’s arm onto his ribcage. Papyrus returned Sans’s soul to its rightful place and removed the gag, drool trailing from it.

“WOWIE, SANS, THAT WAS AMAZING! NO DOUBT BECAUSE OF MY GREAT SKILLS! AREN’T YOU GLAD I DID THIS TO YOU?” There was so much unabashed excitement in Papyrus. 

Still in a haze from the pleasant afterglow and Papyrus’s lingering love-filled intent, Sans murmured, “yeah. thanks, bro.”

When Papyrus wrapped his arms around him, Sans automatically leaned his skull against his brother’s chest, basking in the warmth of Papyrus’s magic.

 

From then on, Sans learned how to appease his brother, how to be _good_. Sleeping more than eight hours, mentioning food other than what Papyrus had cooked, and not following his sibling’s directions resulted in punishment. Eating and praising Papyrus’s cooking, allowing Papyrus to feed, bathe and dress him without a fuss resulted in pleasure. That temporarily relief of pain, along with the other’s touches of intimacy, ensnared Sans like a spider’s web does to its victims. 

And if Sans behaved, Papyrus _always_ made him feel good. His brother never asked for Sans to return the favor — heh, kinda hard when you got no hands or feet to use — but he enjoyed watching Sans orgasm, always giving a loving, radiant smile. And Sans was a moth, attracted to the flame that was Papyrus. 

So he acted exactly as Papyrus wanted.

Sans had eventually become obedient enough that when Papyrus came to him with an ice pick and asked him to sit down in the now marrow-stained chair that Papyrus had used to amputate his arms and legs, he agreed without any hesitation. He didn’t even flinch when the other brought the ice pick to his clavicle. 

“SANS, WHAT I’M ABOUT TO DO MAY HURT. BUT I KNOW YOU CAN REMAIN QUIET SO I DON’T HAVE TO GAG YOU.”

Sans nodded and clenched his teeth. 

His breath hitched when he felt the point breach the surface of bone and slice a thin line, followed by another jagged one. He could feel the marrow trickling down from the wound. Each mark Papyrus etched seemed to set fire to the bone. Sans had his teeth clamped and eyes shut so tightly he thought it would break his jaw and eye sockets. 

A pleased hum drew Sans’s attention to the markings. They were letters. Sans couldn’t stop a pained groan at a particularly deep cut.

“IT’S ALRIGHT, SANS, I’M ALMOST DONE. YOU’RE DOING SO WELL, JUST HOLD OUT A BIT LONGER!”

One tortuous minute later, Papyrus leaned back with the happiest expression Sans had ever seen on him. His sockets sparkled in delight.

“LOOK, EVERYONE WILL KNOW THAT YOU BELONG TO ME, AND ONLY ME! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

Dull eye lights trailed down. Although Sans wasn’t an expert in reading upside-down, one look and he immediately knew what had been carved into his collarbone. 

_Papyrus_

He smiled. 

Of course. Now he has finally become the perfect doll for his coolest brother.

**Author's Note:**

> "Marion" is the based word for "marionette" which means doll.
> 
> Also, feel free to hit me up at my NSFW tumblr: knowmeknot101.tumblr.com


End file.
